


these wings are just to slow the fall

by kuro49



Category: DCU - Comicverse, Suits (TV), White Collar
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M, White Suits, i have no good excuse for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-07 23:28:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/754349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This city has enough vigilantes to go around, Peter hardly needs to be the hero cop on top of that.</p><p>Or Harvey is Batman, Mike is Robin, and Neal is Nightwing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	these wings are just to slow the fall

**Author's Note:**

> This spawned from a combination of my love for White Suits and Matt Bomer’s expressed interest in playing Nightwing (that’s just all kinds of dream come true okay). I would like to add: I had a really hard time deciding whether Peter should be the police commissioner or catwoman (or as CG points out: feline man in this case).
> 
> Note: I sincerely apologize to all three fandoms.

"I'm jealous, the red and green looks better on you than it did on me."

He is perched by the stone gargoyle's wings when he drops down silently beside him, nearly startling the other into dropping the binoculars a dozen or so floors down into the Gotham streets. Robin snaps his head to the side to see Nightwing grinning ruefully down at him.

"Thanks?"

"Don't worry, Mike. That's a compliment, I look good in anything." Nightwing takes a seat with acrobatic grace and swings his long legs over the ledge, his head turning to the dark night sky with fluid ease.

The silence is comforting before Robin's eyes widen, his hand loosens in a spark of startling revelation and the binocular falls with a rush of words.

"…How'd you know my name?"

And it is with wider eyes and lips parted in a silent _oh_ that Mike watches as Nightwing extends his foot out to catch the binoculars' strap in mid-flight down.

"Harvey knows your name," Nightwing shrugs and gives a kick, the binoculars swinging into the air just in time for Robin to swipe them back into the safety of his hands, and says pointedly with a small smile, "and Harvey doesn't know anyone's name."

"I don't think that's a compliment."

"It's better, it's a praise." Neal laughs at the hint of pink at the tip of Mike's ears and nods with approval, seeing just what Harvey must have seen when he first picked him from the streets. "You make a much cuter Robin than I did, Mike. I do hope you're smart though."

"Well, I'm not stupid."

"Well, that's a step up," Neal doesn't know whether Mike sees the Batsignal coming on in the distance but he isn't going to be the one to point it out. "You think you can keep Harvey busy for a bit?"

"Is that a challenge?"

"I think you know the answer to that already."

And he is just short of disappearing when Mike speaks up from behind him, eyes on the opposite end of the city, eyes on the Manor, dark in the distance.

"…And the signal?"

"I will take care of it, trust me."

Nightwing's smile is not to be trusted, that much Robin knows. But there is a way in the curve of those lips that sneaks pass any and all better judgment, makes Mike trusts in a way only one other man has done before.

"Okay."

Nightwing turns back to face Robin, has his head tilting to the side, looking like he almost wants to chastise him for being so trusting and naïve before he flashes him a wide grin. "Harvey likes the bagel stand in front of that law firm down by—"

"Pearson-Hardman." Mike says.

Neal laughs with a nod and waves at him to go, "no wonder Harvey likes you, you're smart too."

"Just obedient."

Robin grins in return and barely has to blink. Nightwing is already gone.

 

000

 

Harvey's smile is rare, painfully so.

And if Mike sees the wet sheen in his eyes, he pretends he can't and goes on: talks just a little too loud, quotes Harvey's favorite movie with the worst impression he can muster and tries to get him to forget if only when he is in his presence. (Ignores the picture of Harvey's parents by the fireplace, ignores the date on the calendar and of course, the fresh bottle of opened scotch on the table, already half gone.)

He pulls him from the window, as far from the city as Mike can get them both without risking it to burn on its own and tells him thanks.

He drags Harvey's eyes away from the signal and directs it to himself.

 

000

 

Commissioner Peter Burke doesn't need to turn around to know. He can tell from the way his entity calms at the feel of his presence, and it is both ridiculous and unnerving. He cowboys up and says, "you realize that when I turn it on, I am asking for Batman, not you, right?"

"Don't be so picky, Peter." Nightwing steps out from behind the shadow of the Batsignal and his grin is one of endless amusement. "You get what you get."

Peter is used to their need for theatrics but he still can't help but roll his eyes at Nightwing's entrance. "And lucky me, I get you."

"Sorry for the disappointment, the Bat is just a little busy."

Nightwing reaches over and turns the Batsignal off, submerges them in a kind of darkness only dim city lights can interrupt, and in the corner of the roof where they are both standing, there is only shadows to hide the lurking secrets between them.

"So why'd you call for a vigilante to come do your job?"

"The Joker's back."

"…Good ol'Matthew Keller."

"He's not your personal vengeance, you know."

Peter doesn't see the look that crosses over his face, doesn't put together that Matthew Keller has once been Matthew too, that their tangled past has once been a good old time. And if Kate hasn't died so tragically, maybe the three of them could still be happy.

"It doesn't matter what he is to me, he has to be locked up."

But she has been gone for a long long time. He is tired of being angry with Batman, tired of wondering if the Joker will ever stop blaming him for her death. Instead, he wants to take a step forward, out from beneath the shadows and maybe, into the light where the sun is as bright as it is warm.

He's not that brave though (not yet anyway), he is still scared that it will burn.

Nightwing peels back his mask and for a fraction of a second, Peter pretends he hasn't already figured out their puzzle or the men behind the vigilantes. For a fraction of a second, Peter allows himself a moment to memorize the tangible blue as something he can keep.

"…Don't do anything stupid, N—"

But it doesn't matter what he plans to say because his lips are sealed over his with an insistent pressure that is both soft and pliant. His hands don't reach for him but the yearning aches when he steals the words from his tongue and kisses him within an inch of his life.

It feels as though he is falling, and this time, neither knows whether they can still land on their feet.

He is breathless, and sweet, and what they just did can't be done in reverse. So when he steps back and into the city lights, the mask is already in place. Still, his smile is enough of an invitation all on its own.

"I'll be fine, Peter."

When he goes, he takes another step back and free falls off the edge of the building.

Peter's heart doesn't skip a beat, though it sure feels like it. And despite knowing the outcome, that a look over the ledge will give zero indication as to where Nightwing is, Peter still can't help himself.

He closes his eyes against the dark and imagines the man is still right there with him. And the only admittance he allows himself is a near silent mutter beneath his breath.

"Damnit, Neal."

 

000

 

"So you're the Bat's new sidekick?"

Robin nods, standing uneasy at the Commissioner's steady gaze. Maybe it's the authoritative line to his stance. Maybe it's the way that the man looks as though he knows all his secrets, can read him through his bullshit and then some.

"Nice outfit."

"Why does—" Robin rolls his eyes, and imagines Peter Burke to be nothing but a guy with a badge. He may be discrediting the man but he did catch him with a bag of bagels on the street, there's only so much rookie mistakes that he can commit in one day. "Never mind."

"Give Batman a message for me?"

"Why not? Batman thinks I'm no good for anything else any way."

"Tell him the Joker's back." His eyes don't widen, he can guess half as much but he waits for the other man, if only because he looks as though he has so much more to tell his mentor. Robin tilts his head to the side, and Peter finally relents.

"And tell him to give the kid a break."

 

000

 

He comes in through a locked window and declares himself guest.

A perfect moment or two later, Harvey Specter walks into his study and finds himself playing host. There is already a fire started in the fireplace, giving a loud crackle when he walks closer to the man sitting in a plush over stuffed chair, shrouded in the shadows of the unlit room.

Harvey only sees that his best scotch is opened on the table by those outstretched legs.

It doesn't take a detective, or a certain police commissioner, to make a guess. Though, he does play the mystery well. (But don't they all with their dual identities and intriguing smiles.)

"You made yourself right at home, Neal."

The fire dances, casts a fiery orange-red onto the man's profile before he turns his head just right to show off a hint of a perfect smile. But that's Neal Caffrey, it is always hard to tell what he wants from the way he looks right at you, especially when he still has his mask on.

Harvey takes a seat in the opposing chair and pours himself a generous amount.

"You got yourself a new puppy, Harv." He leans forward as his hand reaches up to peel the mask back from his face. His dark hair falls into his eyes at the motion and the blue he reveals is blazing from the fire. Neal smiles something mock innocent and asks with a tilt of his head, "does he fetch?"

"Mike does better, and don't call me that, Caffrey."

" _Mike_? You guys are on first name basis already?" Neal raises a brow and has to smirk into his glass to keep from laughing out loud. "You almost sound proud, Harv."

Harvey scowls deeply and watches as the other polishes off the last sip of amber in his glass. And Harvey being Harvey deliberately ignores Neal as he motions for another one. "Maybe if he was less of a rookie I would tell him that."

Neal gives a shake of his head and reaches for the bottle himself, seemingly absentminded when he says, liquid amber cascading over ice. "Then you would be kicking him out of the manor with nothing more than an adios, it's been real, Neal."

"Oh," neither of them are good men but they are trying to make due with everything they come to do with a mask over their face. Still, they aren't above petty revenge, and Harvey's smirk is biting when he continues, "you almost sound bitter, Neal."

"Don't worry, Harvey. If I was, you would know about it."

When Harvey meets his gaze over the rim of the glass, his smile is pleasant and his eyes too pretty even with the years old resentment buried deep beneath the endless blue. Years ago, it goes without saying that the feelings are mutual, that the resentment is both felt and returned in equal measures.

The fire, it gives another loud crackle in the fireplace.

Harvey runs a hand down his face, and because Harvey Specter has never been a man of small mercies, he lays down his first move and allows Neal to make his.

"Your old friend is back, isn't he?"

"He's not my—"

"You want him?"

Neal stills, eyes flickering red and blue. He knows how to read intentions beyond the spoken word but this all feels like playing a chess game blind, he doesn't dare to let that thin smile break and carefully asks, "you mean, you don't?"

"If you want to bring him down yourself, I'll understand." It isn't a make at peace but it comes close, and for both of them, it is enough. Harvey nods, and tells him. "I won't interfere."

"…the Joker's not going to make this easy."

Harvey drinks the rest of the scotch from his cup and stands up to go, "well, you know where to find me if you need my help."

"Harvey?"

For a second, Harvey thinks he has ruined any attempt at reconciliation but when he turns around, he sees a glimmer of the prodigy he first found picking his pocket on a busy street. And finally, the smirk over Neal's lips is not a line pulled taut.

"I wouldn't wait up for my call."

Finally, it's a step forward.

 

000

 

"Harvey, please tell me that _Nightwing_ was in there with you?"

"Unbelievable." Mike's eyes are huge with the kind of puppy dog anticipation that Harvey has never been all that good at turning away from (not that he would ever admit to it but). He scoffs instead. "You have the real Batman standing next to you and you look like you're about to hyperventilate at Nightwing?"

Mike makes a face and says as a matter of fact, "I see you in your pyjamas eating cereal Donna makes you in the morning, Harvey. Batman doesn't have the same appeal. Also, he complimented me on my red and green."

There is no hesitation when Harvey slaps a hand across the back of Mike's head.

"Best damn Robin, my ass."

(But still, he listens to Mike's whining all the way to the batcave.)

 

 

bonus:

"So you aren't too busy this time?"

"And you aren't using the Batsignal to arrange a [clandestine sexual liaisons on an ad hoc basis](http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=booty%20call&defid=1567315) with my ex-sidekick?"

"What?"

"Burke, I'm not stupid, and my sidekick isn't as good of a distraction as he thinks he is."

XXX Kuro


End file.
